


It is Forbidden to Forbid - Aziraphale, Crowley, and the Marquis de Sade

by White Queen Writes (fhartz91)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Lovers, M/M, Romance, a narrative based on my own head canon, and all of the things being there inspires them to do, just the ramblings of an ineffable bdsm expert, mention of BDSM but not the practice of, might expand into actual tales of Aziraphale and Crowley spending time at de Sade's estate, that Aziraphale was the Marquis de Sade's favorite dinner guest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:07:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/White%20Queen%20Writes
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley both spent time with the Marquis de Sade, but for vastly different reasons.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	It is Forbidden to Forbid - Aziraphale, Crowley, and the Marquis de Sade

**Author's Note:**

> I do realize that de Sade is a polarizing figure. I am not here to villainize or deify him. This is simply a fun little exploration of our angel and demon and their possible interactions with this man. 

Aziraphale and Crowley both had occasion to spend time with the Divine Marquis. Angel and demon adore human decadence in their own ways, and de Sade was nothing if not decadent. The estate they most frequented was primarily one large garden hidden behind a stone wall, so there was no real mystery why they both felt comfortable there. Crowley spent long hours in the marquis's 'secret gardens' talking endlessly with the man about one of his favorite subjects - humanity’s inherently evil nature.

Crowley isn't too proud to admit he took notes.

Aziraphale remained de Sade's favorite dinner guest up until the day he died. 

Aziraphale's fussiness and prudishness amused de Sade more than irritated him, but that was because Aziraphale was unceasingly open-minded and a rapt listener. It was the angel's innate curiosity coupled with an indescribable, boundless innocence that attracted de Sade to him. De Sade found himself inviting Aziraphale over more and more, not in the hopes of Dominating him but educating him.

Though the thought of taking a more ' hands-on' approach with his guest did inspire one or two of de Sade's more  _ graphic _ novels. 

On Aziraphale's end, he admired de Sade's advocation for unrestrained sexual freedom. Freedom of any fashion was an attractive subject to Aziraphale. One would think that being an angel, with unfathomable magical powers, answering only to God, he would possess all the freedom in the world, fettered only by his desires.

After all, God is all about 'free will'.

But being an angel isn't without its chains.

De Sade fancied chains. But there was a liberation welded into the shackles he offered Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale was drawn to the way de Sade regarded the human body, how he inspired others to see - and  _ play _ \- with it. His philosophies unlocked something within Aziraphale.

Something he didn't realize he'd kept under lock and key.

Crowley didn't understand 'the big deal', so to speak. He stuck around because de Sade's antics, and those of his followers, were good for a chuckle. And he always stocked cask upon cask of the finest alcohol. He was the only human Crowley had ever met who could procure absinthe strong enough to exorcise the soul.

Oh yes - Crowley spent many a weekend having his mind wiped clean at de Sade's estate. He was grateful for the escape.

But he couldn't wrap his mind around Aziraphale's affection for the man. 

So what if de Sade threw huge parties featuring angel's favorite foods? Crowley could summon that up in a snap! Much of it couldn't have been all that good. Humans often became sick at de Sade's parties, but that was never here nor there. It was mind-boggling how often those same humans, roiling in agony for weeks while their insides met up with their outsides, would show up at de Sade's doorstep when the next round of invites called, tails wagging behind them.

The marquis and Aziraphale enjoyed many of the same plays, writing one another notes in the margins of their manuscripts, but what of it? There was little else to do in France at the time but read, eat, fuck, and go to the theater. 

From peasant to priest, everyone did it.

That didn't make de Sade  _ special _ . 

Crowley knew all of this because he accompanied Aziraphale to de Sade's functions as often as he could get away. Aziraphale, a very clever and astute angel, could be naive, after all. And Crowley felt it only right to keep a slitted eye on him.

As for some of the more taboo parts of de Sade's character, well... if Aziraphale was truly into that whole dynamic of punishment as a vehicle for pleasure, why didn't he simply approach Crowley on the subject? Who better to talk to about sexual sadism (a word that made Crowley roll his eyes) than a demon? And if Aziraphale required a demonstration, Crowley would be more than happy to oblige.

For educational purposes, of course.

There had been one or two close calls between them - when the alcohol had flowed a bit too liberally, and Aziraphale, caught in the web of de Sade's words, found himself walking the halls of his palace, stopping to press his ear to a door, concentrating on the noises within - the moans of pleasure, the sharp yelps, the hisses, the  _ screams - _ while his fingers worried the hem of his coat until it nearly separated. 

It was in these moments, following along behind him in the guise of a serpent, that Crowley caught glimpses of the dark shadow in Aziraphale, the one that grew with every temptation Aziraphale performed.

Performed on Crowley's behalf.

Which is why Crowley didn't judge de Sade for possibly corrupting him.

How was Crowley any better?

Aziraphale would return to his room with some manner of implement he'd found along the way (a cat 'o nine tails or a tawse - they were left lying on every piece of furniture in the place). He'd sit in a high-back chair and tap his inner thigh with the leather, maybe give his exposed skin a hard slap, and consider the possibilities.

Crowley would be there as well, curled up in a corner, hidden from the light, considering those same possibilities with him. 

As far as Crowley knew, de Sade never laid a hand, or a  _ whip _ , on Aziraphale.

Crowley sometimes hinted, often wondered, highly suspected, but never outright asked if one of the reasons Aziraphale ended up in the Bastille wasn't due entirely to crepes. Crowley often joked that Aziraphale got himself locked up because he knew Crowley would race to his rescue. But could he actually have been searching for the marquis, locked away for nearly a decade?

De Sade must have greatly esteemed Aziraphale as well. A notorious atheist, he owned a single church prayer book. It had been a present from Aziraphale.

It was discovered on his person when he died.

Aziraphale was heartbroken when he discovered that many of de Sade's works were not only banned in France but destroyed. It brought Aziraphale back to the destruction of his beloved Library of Alexandria.

Aziraphale's fondness for de Sade, even after his death, burned Crowley to the roots of his flaming red hair. But he loved Aziraphale more. So he pirated de Sade's works from the forbidden Enfer, or Hell, section of the National Library in Paris, and slipped them into the hands of influential Surrealists - Man Ray, André Breton, Dali. He couldn't hand them over to Aziraphale.

He wasn't ready for Aziraphale to get the right idea.

Crowley covered for his good deed with Hell by telling them his plan was to revive the thrill of sadism in the hearts of the everyman, further fill the minds of mortals with perversion and an appetite for debauchery. In reality, he'd hoped word would trickle down to Aziraphale in his bookshop in SoHo that de Sade's writings were available to the public again.

Unwittingly, Crowley's push turned de Sade into a cultural hero.

Oops.

Crowley doesn't hate de Sade. He shares Aziraphale's fondness for the man but for wholly different reasons. There was an elegance to de Sade's torture that Crowley once aspired to. Besides, what demon worth his salt could despise a man who once demanded a chocolate cake that was as black “as the devil’s ass is blackened by smoke"? 

Crowley does his part to keep the fire that de Sade stoked in Aziraphale alive by reading to him from de Sade's works. Crowley even bought his angel a bottle of the wine being produced by de Sade's estate. Aziraphale adored the gift, but because Crowley gave it to him, he'd said, and for no other reason. Though sometimes, late at night, when Aziraphale assumes Crowley is asleep, Crowley slithers into Aziraphale's workroom and finds him gazing deeply at the bottle, his fingertips lightly tracing de Sade's signature on the label.


End file.
